Seeing the dwarves receiving an acid bath, Daeron stays away and begins firing arrows.
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Careful dwarves, once that gray ooze finishes devouring the layer of grime accumulated on your skins it will start with your flesh next! Daeron watches as Lockjaw lands a heavy blow and observes its effects.
Daeron looks up from his scribing to the shouts from the door. Ruefully he stands up and collects his gear. He peers at the door, wondering the cause of the commotion
Even Tarrar would find the odorous waterfront setting amicable I think. Let me spend a short time in study before we set off for the day. Noticing the specific scent of excreta from a specific pipe Daeron observes. The pipes with the waste would lead to habitation, of what I would think an examination of the waste would tell.
Perhaps if I greased the adhered surface these animals will dislodge themselves? Let me try another method. With glistened fingers from butter, Daeron gesticulates at the strand thowers. Lithcin!
That sort of request especially from someone with a pronounced vulgar vocabulary is easily misunderstood. Nevertheless your meaning is clear and yet I am unable to comply for that knowledge is lost for the day. Despite the stickied dwarves's plight, Daeron takes his time articulating his reply.
Can you just pull the tentacle and dislodge the animal its attached to, Lockjaw? Perhaps it would taste good.
Daeron points a finger at the creature licking Lockjaw and whispers,
Two orbs erupt from the elf's finger and strikes the creature unerringly.
I cast Magic Missile at the Gazebo!
I could not reason the function of the building beyond these bridges and islands. A dwarven gazebo perhaps? Daeron looks around the underbrush before addressing his elven kin. My studies of the outdoors is dismal as to not able to discern any clues of probable fauna residing here. Would you share your skill on this matter?
Let us get moving. With discreetness as well. I will restrain the use of light for awhile, unless we need it the most.
As thought previously, we should use the enmity between the werebats and gnolls to our advantage. I somehow believe we should find a hideout within the mines. Running that gauntlet everytime we enter the mines would wear our dwarves ragged. Meanwhile whilst we are here, we should explore our surroundings more fully? How about that park-like area yonder?
Enemies abound. You dwarves must be pleased. Daeron whispers thanks to his familiar before he puts his pocket loving bat back into his hideout. Continuing, the long haired elf adds. We still do not know of our enemies strength and numbers. Some of us have a grudge for those werebats as do I. The advantage lies with them for aerial mobility and ability to access places we cannot. I would suggest to take care of them and usurp their lair. What I do think of most is our ability to continue a sustained campaign. That would mean a retreat, easily defensible with our numbers. If we make our camp at the only exit in and out of the mines we could ambush any traffic and wear our enemies by attrition.
Let my familiar flitter around and see whether any enemies are about. But this is a dwarven stronghold. You dwarves would have an idea of where we should be careful. On another note, the lizard killed back then are common, the one killed perhaps a subterranean offshoot. Daeron takes out Ghema, instructing him to fly the to the ceiling above.
"Did anyone understand what they were saying?" Despite my wide linguistic prowess which includes the recently mastered Dwarven toungue, gnoll is not one of them. Glancing at Chitleen,
The bow's pull is too heavy for me, though the arrows I would make use of. I would hope any of you dwarves would consider using a bow before closing in melee but I expect it to be a minute chance. Daeron rearranges the arrows in his quiver and scavenges the 3 arrows shot during the fight. Only the shaft lodged in the reptile's snout proved usable.
Poking at the fine chain shirt the gnoll leader was wearing, Daeron calls out to Lockjaw. This piece of mail would serve well as your nightly garb, Lockjaw. I doubt the smell of dog would trouble you much after it has been through a quick rinsing. Unstringing the bow, Daeron adds the hardwood shaft to his pack.
That may be, I have noted the duel of odors, beards and gore that our two warriors boast between them. But whomever their axes bite end lifeless to the floor. Daeron readies his final mundane arrow and looks onto Chitleen. I have run out of mundane ammunition, would you have any to spare brother?
Round 6
With his comrades at the other side, Daeron weaves under the spiked gate to rejoin the party. He looks at the giant Tarrar going to toe off with the reptile and shouts. At least you got the lizard all to your self Tarrar!
With enemy support coming this way and Mankato accompanied, Daeron flicks a finger at Tarrar, speaking in an arcane voice both large and hollow.
The sounds of more guards further downward worries Daeron as he shouts a warning. With more of these beasts not far off, make sure your way back here is clear, Mankato. With the training of elven years, Daeron takes a shot at the nearest acid burnt gnoll.
We shall take what is available to us. A cursory look would provide ideas for further improvement. The tower yonder by the gatehouse, how does the inside fare?
Mr Voodoo, I saw "The Beehive" reference in the campaign tab. I'm not sure I recall anything related to it. Is it a spoiler of sorts?
It matters not my kin, for the two of them together is an excuse for us to keep our olfactory senses sane by staying a distance away. Continuing in Common, Daeron adds.
If we are to stay here for a while, a map of the are is useful should we start clearing up the entrance and upper levels. Finding the werebat's lair and the gnoll encampment would be useful too.
Daeron gestures to Chitleen, as the desert elf sheathes back his curved sword. Brother, the effects of the vermin's venom is deadly indeed. I would look upon Lockjaw and see he still has yet to absolve himself of its toxins. Samples of it would prove useful for our arrows.
Daeron stands at the rear, away from any spray of centipede ichor as experience tells that it usually stank, as Chitleen's and Lockjaw's blows cracks chitin. Not that it'll matter to the dwarf but the sweet smelling elf would find it difficult to wash in these parts. Daeron approaches the cleaved centpedes with dagger in hand and vial in another.
With Lockjaw preventing the centipede advancing on him, Daeron readies his longbow and looses an arrow at the chitinous vermin.
With the monstrous vermin so close, Daeron steps back, giving himself some space.
Seeing Tarrar's handiwork, Daeron adds some remarks, I think you could do better Lockjaw, those mandibles look dangerous and I would not like to get bitten. Daeron taps Lockjaw, surging the paladin's size with a jolt of magic.
Daeron stands nearby the opened trapdoor, before he cries, Lampus!, sending a small glowing humanoid figure descending in the depths below.
I'd do it.
While you are there, you could strip him of his other possessions that you would think useful. Otherwise this chamber bereft of circulation and with such dank air would mean the death of us elves. Daeron calls after the rapidly climbing Tarrar. With nothing more to see, Daeron start waiting outside, until Tarrar finishes his business and starts to head to the garden tower.
Daeron moves in, accompanying Karrak as the dwarf investigates the previous night's tower. If you are seeking more worthwhile armor Tarrar, I remember one of the fallen were-creature donning a chain shirt where we left it on the roof.
He finds an expertly crafted chain shirt with more standard scimitar, sap, and noose. There are also a pair of alchemical thunderstones. Reread the previous encounter and probably everyone missed this. Any chance someone salvaged it? It's from Karrak's noose encounter.
Daeron begins to unstring the longbows before arranging them in his pack. After dividing the arrows with Chitleen, Daeron does an arrow count, refilling his quiver. Shelter is what we need, though we should let Tarrar have his fill.
"I do, ya stinkin' musk ox. Ye ever got near a body of water? Ye smell like an ogre's loin clothe after mating season." Tararr says now face to face with the other dwarf. We could let our next captured foe decide which dwarf was the most waterphobic and interrogate him that way. So the bats had you captured, and the hyena-faces have the human slaves? At least they are not working together. I would concur with Karrak's wise observation. Next time we meet up with a werebat or gnoll we should try to keep one alive so Lockjaw and Tarrar could extract some useful information.
I do hope what shelter found has at least adequate ventilation, bat free or not.
I find it odd that these gnolls are very well equipped indeed. I would see from the craftsmanship these armaments would be worth a fair amount of gold. Daeron nods on at Chitleen's counsel and replies. I would agree with my kin. Being prepared before delving would increase our chances of success. I would also expect Tarrar to have some insight of the layout of our surroundings.
Daeron sniffs a little, finding the combined presence of Tarrar and Lockjaw synergistic in a multitude of ways. Reminded of Chitleen's advice, he goes around examining the fallen gnoll's armaments a little closer, gathering and stripping the carcasses of any useful items. A routine casting of Detect Magic ensures Daeron anything valuable is not missed.
They are gone, for now, declares Daeron as he takes in the dwarven architecture. He glances over at the badly wounded Tarrar, remarking, Even an death defying fall could not put you down, what more of a few lousy gnoll arrows? Daeron looks keen to consolidate and exchange news with newly found Tarrar, but his eyes dart around uneasily expecting a second wave.
Pulses of invigorating energy wash over Daeron as his chest wound almost heals completely. Standing easier, Daeron closes over to Mankato and peeks around the corner.
Daeron completes his chanting and looks over the aftermath of the short skirmish, whilst compressing his partially healed wound. At least nobody was bought down by the dogs, though their expert use of bows is commendable. Frowning a little, Daeron continues to be vigilant, eyes and ears open.
Daeron nocks an arrow, anticipating a gnoll sniping attack. Staying close to Karrak, he crouches, eyes at the gate. With his free hand, he traces his bow's frame, chanting softly in a low heavy voice.
Seeing his first arrow hit, Daeron continues to move ahead and fire. He chooses an unimpeded gnoll as his target.
Daeron moves forwards, knowing his arcane magic's limited range would be limited in providing further assistance. Stopping just rear to Chitleen, Daeron lets an arrow fly, choosing a blinded gnoll as his first target.
Feeling much better after Karrak's healing magic, Daeron pulls himself to his feet and nods his thanks to the dwarf. With his wounds staunched, Daeron readies his bow and prepares to fire.
Daeron keeps himself low to the ground, crawling to seek cover behind the throng of warriors. Crush the blinded first. My dust would not last long.
I see you survived the fall, and with a welcoming party in tow! Daeron starts to chant the gritted syllables of magic, aiming his arcane power to a clump of persuing gnolls.
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